This could make a mediocre book

Fear, falling and four-letter words

I have a bad habit. I curse. More than I should. I don’t know when or how it really started and I’ve been trying to cut back for a while and believe it or not it’s better than it used to be.

And seriously, I could have worse habits.

Nowadays, the times it happens the most are only in the most serious of situations. Like when something goes wrong, breaks, I hurt myself somehow, I forget something, or my alarm goes off and I’m not ready to get up yet.

I tell you that to tell you this – I am currently laying in bed because it feels good on my sore back. Why is my back sore?

OH. ON ACCOUNT OF IT SNOWED. And no one salted the walkway outside my apartment building. And like the graceful ballerina that I am, yesterday when walking to my car, I ate it. Big time. Fell so hard my shoe popped off. So I can’t really make as much fun of Sami for all the times she fell when skiing and her skis popped off. Because seriously, yesterday, my walking to my car was like Sami getting off the chairlift at Paoli. NOT PRETTY.

And, unable to control myself, as my feet flew out from under me and I landed square on my butt (I’m sure there’s a softball-sized bruise or two. It feels like it anyway) I let loose a four-letter word. I’m not gonna say which one, but suffice it to say, the parents of the kids on the first floor apartments should be glad their kids were inside and didn’t have to hear it. Or maybe they did. I yelled it loud. IT HURT!

It’s not just when I fall – which is actually more often than I wish to admit – but when I am startled that those words come out. I can’t help it! Last year, the haunted house down the street from my parents house made it sound like I’d developed Tourette’s. Bring on the ghosts and the paranormal excursions, but have a clown or man with a chainsaw jump out at me in a semi-dark room, I’m screaming a bad word. And I’ll give you a hint, it usually rhymes with spit.

Seriously though, the first floor people at this apartment probably aren’t too happy with me, considering it’s not the first time this week I’ve shouted an expletive as I’ve walked out to the parking lot. A few days ago, a giant bird (OK maybe not giant but it sounded like it) was in the bushes right by the walkway where I fell yesterday. About the time I walked past said bush, the bird moved or flew away or something and all I could think was “Holy crap it’s gonna fly out of that bush right into my head.” And I jumped, screamed a little bit and said a bad word.

I can’t help it. But the first step to getting better is admitting you have the problem, right?